Rescued
by NowFlyAway
Summary: After Hermione is rescued from Voldemort sympathizers who kidnapped, tortured, and cursed her, how will she go back to her life? Lucius Malfoy, who aided her in her escape has changed after events in his life, just how much has he changed?
1. Prologue

Hermione lay huddled, alone, dirty and shivering on a stone floor. The room she was in was barely five feet high, five feet long and four feet wide. Her clothes had been taken, she had been given a potato sack to wear. Her hair had been shaved off a while ago, but it had now grown back about an inch.

Her lip was split, from an altercation from a few days earlier with one of her captors, which was why she had been put in isolation. She was a prisoner of a war that had long ended, she doubted if anyone believed her or anyone here, if anyone else was left, were still alive. She had seen some Ravenclaw fourth year about two weeks ago. But she hadn't seen or heard anyone since. The isolation chamber was magically fortified to block all sound from the outside world, so you really were alone.

She had been in this dank room for three days with no food or water, no one had come to check on her and no one had come to save her.

She couldn't remember the last time she had stood up straight, shared a word with anyone, or even used a toilet. The last thing she remembered before showing up in this hell hole was being jinxed after dropping her daughter off at Kings Cross. She had no idea how long she'd been here, she'd lost count of the days. When she first came, she could hear others fighting, yelling, screaming from torture.

She too had been tortured, but every time, the people wore masks and full robes. She never cried once, never screamed once, she refused to give them that satisfaction. She'd had a broken wrist, cracked ribs, a broken nose, and multiple black eyes and busted lips, but she never cried. She did her best to spit on their shoes and fight them. But, she was tired now. Incredibly tired.

A hand, a warm hand gripped her arm lightly, shaking her awake. She woke with a start, never fully asleep, and was met with another warm hand on her mouth and a shushing sound. She fought only momentarily, sensing the man meant her no harm. She had been so lost in her mind that she had heard the heavy steel door open, scratching against the cobbled floor.

From where she was laying she could not see her savior, but from the door she could see people. Good people. Guarding the door. Her eyes widened as she reached up and pulled the mans arm down, seeing the pale blond hairs on the back of his arm, she nodded deftly. She looked at his face, steel blue eyes looked back at her, high cheek bones covered in fine stubble, and arched eyebrows featured his finely sculpted face. His long hair was pulled back in a low pony tail, and Hermione screwed her face in confusion, "Mr. Malfoy?" She breathed, her voice cracked, and her chapped lips broke and bled from her dehydration. She could barely make a noise.

"No time for questions, Ms. Granger. We need to get you out of here, we don't know how much time we have." The elder Malfoy stood, lifting her tiny, malnourished frame with him. She walked in front of him, supporting her from the back as she made her way out of the isolation chamber, waling as quickly as she could. She saw Neville and Draco among the five wizards outside her cell. She didn't see any other prisoners with them. Was she the only one left?

With the help of Mr. Malfoy, she made her way down the stone corridor. Neville ran ahead and opened the door to the outside. Hermione felt a gush of fresh air and she breathed it in. She brought her hand to her eyes, shielding them from the bright light of the sun from her eyes that had been away for so long. The smell of salt entered her nostrils, heard the cawing of seagulls and as the glare began to fade, opened her eyes to the vast ocean. The prison had been built into the side of a cliff, there was a narrow pathway around the face leading up to the top. Down below, sharp rocks jutted out from the sea, waves crashing angrily into the cliff side from a three hundred foot drop. She stepped back, bumping Mr. Malfoy backwards into the door that had just been shut. Her heart pounded in her ears and her breath caught in her throat. She'd never been scared of heights before, but she had come so close to being free, so close to seeing her daughter and son again, so close to seeing her Ronald, falling off this cliff to her death seemed so small and insignificant compared to what she just went through.

"It's ok, Ms. Granger. It's alright, you won't fall. Calm 'll be alright, I have you. I have you." He kept repeating himself as, together, they crept up the side of the cliff. His hair whipped around their faces, the loose ponytail offering almost no help. Her hair, which was once long and would have none of this wind, flew lightly. She could feel the wind on her scalp, which was a sensation she wasn't accustomed to. Her eys watered uncontrollably from the wind and salty air, and finally she made it to the top of the cliff. She couldn't feel her legs, she could barely direct them and it felt like she was walking on balls of water. She saw a set of brooms hovering in the air about fifteen feet away and she was overwhelmed with relief.

She was going home.


	2. I'm Fine

Hermione paced back and forth in her containment room, staring at a large mirror that covered one wall, knowing there were people on the other side. "Let me see my children!" Hermione screamed at her reflection, "Let me out of here!" She took one of the chairs at the small table and threw it at mirror causing it to crack. Magically, the cracks filled and sealed themselves, making the mirror look brand new. "Someone talk to me! Please!"

Hermione wore a dressing gown the went to her knees, she had a bracelet around her wrist that read her name, birthday, and had the word 'Rescued' etched in the bottommost line. She had tried to rip it off multiple times, but it seemed very resilient. Her knees had been cleaned, and she had received stitches on her forehead from a wound she didn't know she had. She had lost a considerable amount of weight and looked like a ghost of her former self. One eyebrow had a scar through the edge, and she wore dark circles under her eyes. The nurses had explained that her wounds couldn't be cured by magic because of a certain curse they had put on her, but she already knew that from trying to heal herself. She knew she wasn't stupid, and she knew her captors weren't either. They had given her food and drink, and made sure she felt fine before throwing her in this white room with a metal table, two metal chairs, and a big mirror.

Hermione went over to the table and sat in the remaining chair, placing her head in her hands and groaning. "Have we calmed down now?" A voice said from no particular source. "Miss Granger," the unfamiliar voice said, "We are here to explain to you in the fullest detail all we know and you are to tell us what we need to know, is that understood?"

Hermione looked at the mirror, "My name is Mrs. Weasly, sir. And yes I understand," she leaned back in her chair, her hands covering her face and breathed deeply. "My name is Hermione Granger Weasly. I am thirty one years old. I have two children, Rose is thirteen and Hugo is eleven. I am married to Ronald Weasly and have been for thirteen years. The last thing I remember is dropping my daughter to meet her father and brother off at Kings Cross before going to park the car. After that I can't remember anything. I remember driving down an aisle, parking the car, reaching into my car to get my bag and then nothing."

"You don't remember a sensation, or anything Miss Granger? We know it's been a while, but please try to remember." the voice insisted.

"I've told you, I'm married. My name is Mrs. Weasly, and no I don't remember any sensation, and how long have I been gone, exactly?" She said, her voice rising. "Why do you keep calling me by my maiden name? Where is my husband? Have you told him that I'm here, that I'm ok?" Hermione stood up, walking backwards until she hit the wall. "I've answered your questions, please. Please let me go home now. Please, let me see my children."

"Mam, please have a seat," the voice echoed.

"No, I'd rather stand, there's no need to have a seat. I'm about to leave." She clutched her chest, absently groping where her heart would be. "Please."

"Miss Hermione," a voice said from her far left, she turned to see Lucius Malfoy in expensive garb, as always. His hair was free, flaxen strand falling just behind his shoulders, he looked at her with those cloudy grey eyes and she knew something was wrong. He took long strides toward her and by the time he had reached her, she had sunken her frail body to the floor. He crouched down next to her taking the hand that wasn't clutching her chest, "Miss Hermione, I have grave news. Your husband, Ronald, he went to look for you when you took so long and was met with many Voldemort sympathizers. He was killed, he died bravely." Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide, staring at him in disbelief, "He killed two of the bastards and knocked another one unconscious before one took his life. That one he left alive is the only reason we were able to find you. He was buried with Order of Merlin, First Class, for have been missing for two months, two weeks, and eighteen days. It is October fourteenth." He looked at her, and she couldn't see him. She stared at the floor right next to his finely made leather shoe. He was gone. Ronald was gone. Lucius sat down next to her on the floor, and squeezed her hand apologetically.

"Thank you," her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat.

"You are free to leave, Mrs. Weasly," the voice echoed in the room, the voice carried sympathy. "The Ministry is sorry for your loss."

Three hours later Lucius Malfoy opened the door to Hermione's house, letting her in ahead of her. All around the family room and kitchen, her family sat. "Mom!" "Momma!" Rose and Hugo screamed in unison, flying towards her and flinging their arms around her. She hugged them hard, kissing their faces, hair and necks. They kept saying how worried they'd been and how much they'd missed her. Her parents were the next to come hug her, laying their own kisses on her. Eventually she hugged every Weasly, Potter, and Granger that had come to see her. They gave her their sympathies and she went to her room to put something more comfortable on than the white shirt and jeans they'd given her.

She stepped in the room that was covered in warm tones and walked over to the armoire, opening it and grabbing the first dress she saw. She had bought it for Neville's wedding, it had a high neckline with no sleeves and blue purple flowers dotted the black of it. What once was a figure hugging dress was now much too big for her and she pulled one of her cardigans out to wear over it. She walked over to the bedside, Ron's side, and picked up the silver photo frame of their family in front of this house. Ron had the four year old Hugo on his hip and kept his sons hand waving at the camera while Hermione stood with rose in front of her, lifting her off the ground just barely. Every eight seconds, Ron would look at her, and they would share a small kiss, then go back to the beginning. She sat down on the bed, the photo frame she placed in her lap. She ran one hand through her short hair, staring at her long locks in the picture. She traced the face of Ron with her index finger, cocking her head to the side, a large tear falling from her sunken cheek, splashing on the glass of the photo frame.

"Momma?" Her thirteen year old daughter said quietly, sliding into the room. She looked like the perfect mix between her parents. Long curly red hair sprung from her head, she had the most beautiful crystal blue eyes that she shared with her brother,and a light spray of freckles across her face. A true Gryffindor like her parents, she was already nearly five foot seven. She was the brightest girl in her class, and excelled at Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. She had been cleared for the use of the Time Turner with the sway of her mother's experience and reputation. Stubborn and headstrong, her rival being Scorpius Malfoy, ironically enough. She wore a pair of worn blue jeans and a flowery blouse. She had just started wearing make up. "I love you, Momma," Rose quickly crossed the room and sat next to her mother, putting an arm around her, "I miss Daddy too. I'm so glad you're home, Momma. I'm so glad you're okay," her daughter's voice cracked, which was out of character for her, "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you too."

Hermione wrapped her arms around her crying daughter and shushed her. "It's alright. I'm here, baby. And Daddy won't go anywhere unless you let him. I can feel him right now. It's alright." She smoothed her daughter's hair, and patted her back. "When do you have to go back to school?"

"Tonight, Hugo got sorted into Gryffindor. He was very excited. I'm doing really good, Momma. He's struggling a little in Potions, but I think it's just because of the professor. Wimpette is a very nasty and mean woman. No one really likes her, she gives out too much homework and hate's Gryffindors with a passion." Rose said angrily, wiping her nose and sniffling, "It's down right unfair the way she treats all the house but the stupid Slytherins, especially Scorpius. He is such a brown noser." She grunted, her frustration with the school system over coming her.

"I think Potions Masters are supposed to be naturally nasty." Hermione said, "Though I bet this one means well, just like the last one. All professors are professors for a reason," Hermione kissed her daughter on the forehead, "Now go on, I'll be down in a bit."

A few hours later, after everyone had said their goodbyes and apologies, and Hermione had hugged and kissed her children so much they couldn't breathe, she said goodbye, and watched them take off with a set of escorts back to school. Molly Weasly was one of the last ones left and walked up to Hermione, grasping Hermione's tiny hands in her plump ones, "'Mione, do you want me to stay here with you? It's no trouble, it's no trouble whatsoever. I don't think you should be alone."

"Molly, I'm alright. Thank you, if I won't let my own parents stay, I can't very well let you stay. I'm fine, Molly," Hermione leaned down placed a kiss on her cheek."Thank you, Molly, for taking care of my house and my children. I could ask for a better other mother." Hermione gave the short woman a firm hug, noting she smelled of freshly baked cookies, and walked her to the door. After everyone had left, Hermione made her way to the kitchen, finding Lucius at her dining table , four quills were working at the same time on different papers and he was scribbling on the piece of parchment in front of him. A tea cup was set aside from him and had long been forgotten.

Hermione made her way over to the sink and turned the faucet on, startling the elder Malfoy. She quickly turned it off, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She turned the faucet back on, squeezing a small amount of hand soap into her palm and rubbing them together to make a lather.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm just not used to people here. It's your house, I'm the one at fault. I apologize," his cloudy eyes looked up at her, trying to catch her view, but her eyes were focused on her hands. "How are you?"

"Why did you take this case? I mean what - why did you look for me so hard?" Hermione said, rubbing her hands together under the faucet. "Most people would have given up."

"Because they took my wife. They found Narcissa's body about a month ago. Her hair had been shaved and she was in worse condition than you were in. She'd went to Diagon Alley for some shopping and never came home. I waited, and waited and waited some more, and decided I wasn't doing enough. I got my Auror's licence a week before she was found." He cleared his throat a few times, "And well, I decided to take on your case because it seemed similar. Now I am sure they were the same people, from the state we found you in, they had already vacated the premises by the time we got there and you were the only one left. We were lucky." He leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. He let out a sigh, and watched her. She had been rinsing her hands for four minutes.

He stood up, pushing his chair back, and walked around the table, making his way over to her. He grabbed a hand towel off the counter and reached in front of her, turning off the faucet. He placed the towels in her hand and she looked up at him, half embarrassed and half relieved. "I'm doing fine, to answer your question." she commented, walking over to the pantry and taking out a teacup. She turned the burner on and set her kettle on the stove.

"Your husband is dead and buried, Mrs. Weasly. You were tortured beyond comprehension for two and a half months. You are the sole survivor of probably the worst event to have happened since the end of the Second Wizarding War. You are not fine, Mrs. Weasly. I am not fine, no one is here is fine. I haven't seen you express any emotion since I told you of your husbands death." he crossed his arms and stressed every word, "We are not fine."

"Well, Mr. Malfoy, what do you want me to say? I am hurting, I am hurting bad," Hermione gripped the porcelain cup in both her hands, her back to the man in her kitchen. "But I can't worry my children and my family. I have to be strong, I have to be - I have to be Hermione." Tears welled up in her eyes again, her throat swelled and she sucked in a gasp of air. She braced herself on the counter, "Why are you still here?" she managed.

"Why am I here?" He recited, "I'm here because you need someone here, whether you want to admit it or not. No one was there for me when my wife died, because I pushed what few friends I have and my family away. I don't want you to feel that. I am here for you. You may have a great distaste for me, you may resent me or completely loathe me, but I will stay be here for you."

"Please leave. I don't want you here." She said, griping the sides of the counter, "I want you to leave. Get out. This is my home, these are my walls and I want you out. Right now. I want to be left alone." her voice started to rise at his unwillingness to move, "I said leave!" she screamed.

Lucius sighed, his chest rising and falling under the expensive silk of his shirt, "I will be back. I will give you three days to grieve, to be alone. I know that you need it." Lucius walked over and picked up his over coat before walking to her front door.

"You don't know anything." she said from behind barred teeth.

He stopped and turned his head toward her, "I believe I do, Miss Hermione. And that's why I won't let you stay alone." And with that, he stepped out of her doorway, only a few seconds later, Hermione slid down to the floor with sobs racking her lithe frame.

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Well here's chapter one. It's not very great, but I'm bored so I thought, 'Why not?'

Leave reviews of advice or anything. Tel me what you think or I might not feel compelled to write anymore. Let me know you like it!


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